


No War's Hero

by XtaticPearl



Series: Phoenix and Eagle - MCU [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies)
Genre: Character Death, Discussions Of War Profiteering, Gen, Guilt, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Iron Man 1, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, Medical Trauma, Tony Stark Has Issues, self-redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-31
Updated: 2018-03-31
Packaged: 2019-04-16 04:15:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14156496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XtaticPearl/pseuds/XtaticPearl
Summary: When SHIELD brought him in to debrief finally, Tony still had the scent of burning metal embedded in his brain. For a few minutes, he recalls every other thing he has burnt along the way.





	No War's Hero

**Author's Note:**

> MCU tribute to Iron Man (2008).

They let him use his R8 to get to the base, making a show of being disapproving with every step. He would use the phrase 'let him' quite liberally, seeing how Agent Coulson had not said a word after his announcement but had been pointedly annoyed. They even roped Rhodey into it, not that he needed any coaxing, especially with his own frustrations.

"It's not that bad," Tony commented into the silence of the room, risking a glance at the screens laid open behind Coulson. The headlines were pouring in from every news corner of the world already, splashed in varying flavours of acceptance or denial. An italian headline peeked from behind the Daily Bugle's alert and Tony felt distantly amused as he read it.

**_Principe di guerra o cavaliere di pace?_ **

It was a clever idea and Tony momentarily wondered how Everhart would react to this comparison. She had been quite insistent on similar comparisons when they had first met, and Tony wondered about the other thousand reporters who had tried to get bytes from him in the past. Pepper would have preferred more questions about the company than Tony but the opposers and negaters of the Stark fame were always ignored. 

A lot of things were ignored. 

There was an unnatural skip in his clockwork heart and Tony resisted the urge to check the blue light in his chest. It was fine, it was working and it wasn't warm from someone else's body. It was also not a remnant from the suit he had sent into a pit of death, along with the man who had raised him to be -

Well, the prince of war maybe.

"Well, it's done now so let's discuss the future," Coulson said, looking between Tony and Rhodey, his expression carved out of stone for all that he had to be exploding inside. Tony noted the black suit and charcoal tie, the pastel periwinkle shirt that was cuffed by plain links. Coulson was a mask of business, the kind that read into secrets and schemes, running on spit-shined shoes with wiped off blood stains. 

Obadiah hated black suits, Tony recollected with a clarity that he couldn’t afford to birthdays or names. Clothes were an index, an ID card of every person, and Tony could practically hear the tags of vain or superficial being thrown at him, but he had learnt to make up his own codes for things over the years. 

If a therapist stepped into his brain, they would probably see flashes of Obadiah throughout those years, nudging and moulding Tony into a shape that would fit his path.

It felt bitter in his gut to blame Obie for his failures and Tony swallowed the thought. 

The charcoal greys and blues of expensive suits shifted into the dull stability of SHIELD and Tony focused on the debrief. 

“With the revelation of the suit, the threat of imitation and recreation is a top priority,” Coulson addressed them even as Tony frowned.

“The suit is non imitable,” he corrected and Rhodey shifted in his seat, just an inch, but Tony shot him a look, “The power source is not comparable to mass produced energy devices.”

“The Iron Monger -”

“Obie - Stane had the designs from mine,” Tony insisted, a thrum beneath his breastbone assuring him of the palladium keeping his heart alive, “And the reactor is a prototype that can’t be replicated in the miniaturized form.”

“Mr. Stark,” Coulson held Tony’s gaze with steel determination, “The world doesn’t play by rules of wisdom, and you know that better than most.”

“It plays by rules of war, I know,” Tony quipped and paused, meeting Rhodey’s eyes, “

The suit is not up for discussion.”

“Then how about your new status as a superhero?” Rhodey asked and Tony could still feel the heat of the desert and cold of the cave in his bones.

_ “I’m not a hero,” he moved the piece, not used to checkers the way Yinsen said it worked but still finding the solid weight of a harmless stone better than the gunpowder his fingers were coated with.  _

_ “I agree,” Yinsen said, humming under his breath as his eyes ran over the board for a second before he played his turn, thin lips quirking into an empty smile when he shot Tony a quick look, “but you could play the part long enough if you tried. You’re good at that.” _

_ “What,” Tony grinned, a curve shaded different to the smirk he wore around the ones outside the cave, “playing parts?” _

_ “Acting, yes,” Yinsen nodded, sharp wit in his eyes and a small beat touching the board everytime he brushed his fingers over it, “The world is your stage, isn’t it, Mr. Stark?” _

_ “Not big enough, apparently,” joked and they shared a huffed chuckle, two men living in morbid companionship. The air was still damp and Tony breathed it in as much as his compromised lungs could hold.  _

_ Maybe sometime it would smell like freedom.  _

“Iron Man is a tool,” Tony said, finding words that would make sense in the grandeur of nonsense his life had turned into, “And if it serves the purposes the world has right now, then I don’t see what’s wrong.”

“It’s a weapon,” Rhodey corrected and Tony shot him a daring smirk but Rhodey continued without rising to bait, “but it’s still technology that hasn’t been approved or accepted by the military yet. If anything, Tony has handled it better than what - well, better than expected by most.”

“Civilians are liable heroes,” Coulson informed them and Tony raised an eyebrow, “Contrary to impression, we aren’t against you, Mr. Stark. But we do have concerns of security and regulation.”

Liability wasn’t a new aspect of Tony’s life and he distantly remembered the word being thrown around at home when Mr. Stark meant someone else. 

_ “Your talents are meaningless without purpose! Skill has to be honed consistently, Tony,” Howard frowned down, his face rigid and eyes tired. Tony had expected to meet him for dinner but the confrontation in his bedroom was unexpected and he was finding it difficult to care when Howard hadn’t bothered to ask about anything else.  _

_ Dum-E was an achievement for a day and now a mesh of scrap in his dad’s eye. The air felt cooler and Tony eyed the distance between the couch and the wardrobe. There were three tactics to try that would avoid having Howard in the way.  _

_ “Tony, are you listening to me?” _

_ “Not really, but I think I know this exchange well enough by now to get the gist?” Tony commented flippantly, swinging his legs off the couch to try and get up, “I’m working on AIs right now, dad. It’s interesting and -” _

_ “It’s not profitable for the business or anything more concrete,” Howard cut him off and Tony rolled his eyes to hide the flinch of hurt, “What you’re working on is scraps and broken bots. That’s not enough. That’s not what you’re worth. You are -” _

_ “-a Stark, yeah I know,” Tony snapped and swallowed in the immediate pause of conversation. He didn’t need to look up to see his father looking down at him with that familiar tinge of disappointment lining his eyes.  _

_ “I’m trying to teach you to be better, Tony,” Howard said, exhausted and frustrated in tone, “Why won’t you turn your liabilities to strengths?” _

_ Tony managed to get up without touching his looming father and walked around him, not bothering to answer. _

_ There was nothing that could explain the truth anyway. He would always be measured in terms of invisible heroes who lived in his father’s drunken regrets. There was no point in trying anymore. _

“Yeah, well,” Tony smirked at Coulson, mask in place, his heart in tune to the watch ticking on his wrist, “My strength was always in being different, Agent.”

There was not much scope for discussion after that and Tony left with the vague assurances that the stubborn gave to the sceptical. 

It wasn’t until he was back home, sitting in front of the fireplace, that he remembered why the scent of smoke felt so familiar at the back of his throat. 

He’d felt it enveloping his lungs when he had seen his mother’s body for the last time.

He tossed back a drink and closed his eyes to the sight of fire and ash, a phoenix in mourning. 

  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Principe di guerra o cavaliere di pace? - Prince of War or Knight of Peace?
> 
> This oneshot can be expanded into a fuller fic if you guys would like to see it. Please let me know in your feedback.


End file.
